This chapter will make it clear why the story is rated M. You have been warned.


~ 8 ~ Physical training

Piers's sensual lips are like balm for my soul, let alone what they do to my body. I feel hot and cold at the same time – and I can't help responding to his kiss with reckless abandon. It's been ages since I did this the last time... Months? Years? Wesker was always after something other than kisses, and other than him, there's not many people I've kissed in my life.

The thought of Wesker still hurts, but I push it aside. Now is not the time for it. Piers is right; I must finally let go of the past, and he's good at helping me with it. But then, suddenly, he stops. I open my eyes to look at him, disappointed, asking what's wrong.

He doesn't answer, but picks up the pillow he dropped before and throws it against the door, slamming it shut and locking out any interruptions.

"I thought you'd changed your mind," I admit.

"But not five steps away from the goal!" Piers replies, and we pick up where we left off.

I don't look at the clock, but the last time I did, it was after eleven, and it should be almost midnight by now, if not later. I don't care. And for the first time in weeks the reason for me not caring about anything has nothing to do with Africa. We roll over on the bed, then I'm on top of him and let my feelings dictate my actions instead of thinking about them. I put both arms around his upper body and pull him up into an upright position before I take off his pullover, not ceasing to kiss him; his full lips, his cheeks, his neck.

His soft girl's hands rest on my chest at first, but then start moving down on both sides of my body to my belt, which they open while I get rid of my BSAA shirt, dropping it carelessly, and then my hands move underneath the white T-shirt Piers is still wearing.

"You have a beautiful body," he says in a low voice, dropping his gaze from my bare chest to my bellybutton as if he knew that this is a special zone of my body. But his physique is quite presentable too. He's not as broad as I am, rather slender, but muscular as I expected, and his abs are in no way inferior to mine.

He puts his hands on my shoulders and pushes me back, laying me on the back, and crawls on top of me on all fours. I get goose bumps again when he gently strokes over my neck with one finger while he bends over to caress my upper body with his lips, briefly sucking on my nipples and then moving further down in the direction of the bellybutton.

My belt is not open yet and Piers's hands continue to change that while his tongue at my bellybutton perfectly prepares me for what is to come. In any case, Piers knows what he's doing. And while he frees me from everything I'm wearing below the belt, I reach for the lamp next to the bed to switch it off. I like it better this way, only the light of the moon and the street lamps is shining from outside through the tilted skylight, directly on us. Normally I'm not the romantic kind of guy.

Piers's lips are not only suitable for kissing, as I discover when they tightly wrap around my glans. An lustful moan escapes my mouth uncontrolled when he starts sucking it, taking in a little more each time. Wesker didn't put as much effort into it when we did it for the first time in the laboratory, and I could never persuade Dee-Ay to even try that in the first place. Piers, on the other hand, is all but shy; his soft wet tongue makes me twitch every time it strokes the frenulum at irregular intervals. He obviously isn't doing this for the first time. I grab his hair, messing up his perfectly-fitting hairstyle, but let him do what he thinks is right.

He eventually comes to the conclusion that my member has hardened enough. I open my eyes when I no longer feel his lips, and he's sitting upright now, his chest shining faintly in the pale light. When he gets on his knees, I catch a glimpse of his genital area; his penis is not fully erect yet, but fairly big for his slender physique, and Piers doesn't seem to be a fan of pubic hair.

He moves forward to sit on my cock which immediately slides into his comfortably tight baby's bottom without effort. However, that bottom is too soft and relaxed to be virginal. Piers reaches out his hands, I take them, and then he starts riding me in a way I've never experienced before. I let out a startled scream at first, but get used to it within a few seconds. Soft was yesterday; now he's getting really wild, even wilder than he was during the pillow fight.

The bed frame creaks and squeaks under our fast movements while I try my best to keep my mouth shut, feeling that something is brewing in my abdomen. Claire's room is right beneath mine. It's enough if she hears the rumbling, she doesn't need to hear me as well, or she might assume that I'm in danger...

When I feel it coming, I start so squeeze Piers's hands so hard it almost hurts, and I can feel them getting wet. With my eyes closed, I throw my head back and open my mouth to a silent cry. At that moment the explosion occurs, strong enough to shake me thoroughly, and I erupt like volcano, pouring out a stream of hot lava into him. Piers moves slower now, but his grip remains tight, and I can see that his cock has drawn itself up to its full size by now.

Feeling a kind of satisfaction I haven't felt for ages, and determined to thank Piers decently, I free my right hand from his grip and take it to his boner. He's so ready I don't even have to work on him for long. Blinded by lust, he shouts something – I can swear I hear the word "captain" among others –, then he comes. The biggest part of his sperm lands on my chest, the rest on my face.

Exhausted and breathing heavily, he lets up on me – my abdomen feels cold now that he's not sitting on it anymore – and lies down next to me. Although he assumed the passive part in this game, he was amazingly active at it... the riding must have finished him off. I wipe the sperm off my face with my fingers, one drop at a time, then I lick it off, enjoying the stale, slightly salty taste while I imagine what it will be like next time, when we swap the roles.

What an unexpected turn of events for this evening. I don't know how I will think about it tomorrow, but tonight I only hope that there will be a next time.

"You all right, soldier?" I ask when I hear Piers's breathing going back to normal.

"Yes, Sir," he replies casually in a low voice, his eyes set on the stars that are visible through the skylight. I follow his gaze while my mood slowly returns to normal as well, but not too much. I'm not as depressive anymore as I was before – how should I be, after such an experience? – and I just hope it will remain like this for now.

"I think I owe you a favor," I tell Piers. "Because you took my mind off things. You have no idea how much you've helped me."

He turns onto his side so he can look at me, and I see the hopeful sparkle in his eyes despite the darkness. "And that means?"

"Well..." I can't help wondering if he did actually try to bribe me, and if that's also how he got his job at the police. Of course I do not really believe it, but it's amusing to think about. "You've proved to be in form, physically. So you've passed one of the tests necessary to join the BSAA."

The expression of his eyes changes and I'm not sure if I'm interpreting his next look right. He must know what is to come now, but is he really glad about it? Anyway, he replies: "Does that mean you'll give me a real chance and not try so hard to get rid of me anymore?"

I muss up his hair. "I never tried to get rid of you!"

"Yes, you did! And sometimes it's not even a bad thing to get rid of things... or rather, to let them go. You only need to be careful to let the right things go. And keep the right things."

What Piers says makes sense. His words echo in my head and the more times I hear them, the more I realize he's right. Sometimes you have to make a decision. Perhaps I made the right one.

If I hadn't been ready to kill Wesker, I might now be responsible for the deaths of a whole lot of other people he would have killed otherwise, and certainly for the deaths of Jill and Sheva – if I was even alive myself to regret it. Wesker would never have stopped being a threat, with or without me by his side, with or without any feelings he may or may not have felt for me. And maybe Piers would have been one of his victims, possibly even Claire – I would never be able to forgive myself. Would my crazy, totally ungrounded infatuation, even if it was actually love, have been worth that?

Perhaps Wesker ended up being who he was because he never had someone like Claire. Or Jill, or anyone else he could confide in. Or is it my fault? I'll never know how serious he was when he more or less implied that I was the only person he ever loved. Maybe I could have tamed him... and maybe I just stop thinking about it now, or else I might get depressed again. He was a bad person after all. What did Piers say? Sometimes you have to let go, and I decide of what. Tomorrow I'll start letting go of Albert Wesker.

"Are you sleeping?" Piers suddenly asks. His talent to get me out of my thoughts with a random remark is definitely something he has in common with Claire.

"No," I answer.

"Do you have another wish?" he then asks with a grin.

It makes me chuckle. "Thanks, but I'm very tired. Do you want to stay here tonight?"

"Hm..." Piers hesitates. "Are you keen on explaining it to Claire?"

Now I'm the one who hesitates. "Hm."

I switch the light back on and we get dressed. Before Piers puts his pullover on, I bend down to get my S.T.A.R.S. vest which is lying on the floor in the midst of a mess of pillows, feathers, and clothes, and hold it out to him. "Do you want it? It can't get in anymore."

Piers smiles as he approaches to take a look at the vest. "S.T.A.R.S... Isn't that the elite unit you were with?"

"It was the elite unit, yes. It doesn't exist anymore," I explain. "It's just a souvenir now... But if you like, you can have it."

Piers thankfully accepts my present and immediately puts on his new vest instead of his pullover. With that white T-shirt beneath, he really looks like I did way back. To me, the vest is a reminder of things I'd like to forget. To him, however, it's a gift he appreciates, so I don't think I should feel guilty for giving it to him.

I walk him to his car in front of the house.

"I'll call you," he promises. "I have Claire's number which, I guess, is yours too as long as you live here."

"It may not be for long anymore," I say. "After all these weeks it's about time to accept responsibility again. And who knows..." I look at the skylight of my room with an impish grin. "Maybe someone else will move into the guest room up there... if not directly into my sister's bedroom..."

Of course I'm thinking of Leon. But Piers doesn't ask, he just grins. I think he has his very own theories, just like me and probably everybody else who has ever seen the two of them together.

I say goodbye to Piers with one last long kiss.

"As I said, I'll call you. But you can call me too if anything comes up," he says before getting into his car and driving off. I wave at him until he's out of sight.

When I go back into the house, Claire is standing in the door frame of her room and looks at me, the short story from earlier still in her hand. I see she already put away the dishes in the living room.

"What's up?" I ask, feeling insecure.

"Oh, nothing... But I think your old vest suits Piers. Good night!" Without waiting for my reaction, she turns around and disappears into her room where she – or at least I hope so – has been staying all the time.

But if she saw Piers in my S.T.A.R.S. vest – then what else did she see?

I'll think about that tomorrow. For now I'll just go to bed, already knowing that I'll be thinking of him all the time, perhaps even in my dreams. That's much more enjoyable than constantly racking one's brain about one's problems anyway.